Gray Wolf Security: Back Home

by Glenna Sinclair

I smiled. “I wonder why.”

  He opened his mouth to explain, but then saw that I was teasing him. He smiled, too, resting his hands behind his head as he sat back to allow me my exploration.

  I moved my hands all around, following the hills and valleys of his ribs, the ridges of his abs. I touched his arms and discovered that he was particularly ticklish around his armpits. I tasted his throat, felt the vibrations of his moans. I teased those teeny nipples with the tip of my tongue, blew on them and watched them grow even harder. His body fascinated me, the power that vibrated just below the surface and the control with which he kept it hidden.

  It took some time for me to gain the courage, but I eventually pulled the comforter down the rest of his body, exposing him in all his naked glory. Even before the attack, I didn’t quite grasp what was so alluring about a man’s naked body. But as I studied him now, I realized there was a certain beauty to it. Those powerful legs covered in dark hair, his narrow hips, the bones sticking out just above his thighs. And that tool in the center, that wonder of functionality. His was impressive, perhaps explaining his success as a gigolo.

  “Not to ruin the mood, but you’ve been tested, right?”

  “Yes. I’m clean.”

  “I don’t suppose it would do for a gigolo to spread gonorrhea among his victims.”

  “No.” I could hear the mirth in his voice.

  I slid my hand over the top of his thigh, unable to take my eyes from his cock. It really was an interesting tool, unattractive and beautiful all at the same time. But the idea of what it was meant to do made my heart flutter a little with anticipation and that ever present fear.

  “We don’t have to do this, Erin.”

  “I want to.”

  I said the words, but I continued to just stare at him, a little amused by the slight twitch it executed from time to time, like it was a living animal with a mind of its own. Fascinating.

  I moved my hand closer and closer, curious what it would feel like in my hand. Would it be hard, would it be soft? What would it feel like? Julia once told me she’d touched a boy and it had felt like sable. I hadn’t believed her.

  I still wasn’t sure I believed her.

  I never touched the men who hurt me. I barely even saw them, really. When they were hurting me, I was in another place, staring up at the ceiling and pretending I wasn’t there. And it wasn’t like they’d walked around naked. The most I ever saw were their faces and their shoulders, their shirts still covering their flesh like they didn’t feel the need to get completely naked for the likes of me. I’d never seen anything like Boone before.

  And I wanted to touch.

  Courage is not something I’ve ever lacked, but I have to admit that it even annoyed me how long it took for me to pluck up the courage to touch him. Once I did, I wondered what took me so damn long!

  It was definitely soft, but there was a certain pliability to it. And soft. Like sable. Julia had been right.

  “Fuck,” Boone muttered under his breath as I explored him with both hands.

  “What?”

  He shook his head, his eyes slightly glazed over when he focused on me. “That feels so damn good.”

  “Does it?”

  His pleasure hadn’t really occurred to me yet. But I liked the look in his eyes, liked the small moans that issued from his throat. Because of me.

  “What would happen if I kept doing this?”

  He grunted. “I’d lose it.”

  “You mean you could cum like this?”

  “How do you think teens have jacked off for millennia?”

  For some reason, that struck me as really funny. I laughed, tightening my grip on his shaft. He grunted, sitting up a little to grab my hand.

  “Softer, baby.”

  I liked that, too, his use of the endearment. I was beginning to think I might learn to enjoy this.

  “What do I do now?”

  Without a word, he reached for me, wrapping his hands around my waist and lifting me like I weighed nothing at all. He kissed me as he sat up and pulled me into his lap, his hands sliding up over my hips and along the small of my back. This kiss was different. Still gentle. But there was more heat to it, more determination. I felt his hand move between our bodies but there was no more fear. In that moment, I trusted him more than I’d ever trusted anyone. I was ready for this.

  The pain was minimal. It took a moment for my body to adjust to the invasion of his member, but there was no hymen to break. My muscles relaxed, my hips opened. It was a moment I had feared for more than thirteen years, a moment I imagined would come with the same horrific pain and humiliation that had come the first time someone touched me like this. But it didn’t. My fear was unfounded. Boone held me close, his hands guiding my movements. He didn’t try to take control, didn’t try to set the rhythm. He let me do it. And I loved him for it.

  I always believed I’d never be able to experience pleasure. None. Ever. Intimacy. Love. Romance. All of that was out of the question for me. But Boone showed me how wrong I was.

  He didn’t just give me back the control I’d lost all those years ago, but he gave me pleasure like I’d never known. When my lower belly tightened with it, when my spine began to tingle, I couldn’t wrap my mind around what was happening to me. But it was good. It was really good.

  And it was good the second time, too. Mind-blowing even. And the third…

  Once the initial bridge was crossed, I couldn’t stop. He finally had to explain that a man must rest from time to time. But then there are certain incentives that can push him in the right direction…

  Chapter 24

  Joss

  I purposely waited until after the girls were in school and Carrington was at his office before I let myself into the house. I was dragging, exhaustion resting on my shoulders despite my week of fresh Wyoming air. I hadn’t slept well last night, partially because I burned the midnight oil at the office trying to catch up on the paperwork Jules let slip in my absence, and partially because what I was about to do weighed heavily on my shoulders.

  It was time to pack my things and make my exit official.

  I walked slowly through the rooms of my home, the home Carrington and I bought not long after Aidan was born. We’d decided it was best to move out of the place that was filled with memories of Bazarov’s campaign against Carrington and McKelty. This new house was supposed to be filled with love and laughter, a true home and not just a house. And it had been, for a while.

  Now it was just a reminder of my failures.

  I climbed the stairs like there was a weight hanging around my neck. The children’s rooms were a mess, their things strewn about with the carelessness of childhood. I picked McKelty’s clothes up off the floor out of habit, hanging them up in the closet to prevent wrinkles. She’d have to learn how to do that for herself now, I supposed.

  In my own room, I stood in the doorway and stared at the bed. Carrington and I used to give that thing a workout, unable to get enough of each other. We hadn’t been like that since we began attempting to get pregnant again three years ago. In fact, the last time we’d even touched on that mattress was out of anger a little over a month ago. For a few minutes, we were Carrington and Joss again. But only for a few minutes.

  If I didn’t leave Carrington now, I knew he’d eventually leave me. We couldn’t even look at each other without bitterness rising between us. How long could two people live that way?

  Not long.

  I went to the closet and dragged out a large suitcase, resting it on the bed. One trip at a time, I began pulling my clothes from the hangers, tossing them haphazardly in the case. I was normally a better organizer than this, but I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. The case was full long before my things were completely absent from the closet. I dragged out another suitcase and continued, the actions rhythmic. Almost soothing.

  I felt like I was going to vomit.

  “What are you doing?”

  I jerked at the sound
of Carrington’s voice. He was in the doorway, dressed in golf clothes.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I had an early meeting at the club. I came to change.”

  Shit! I hadn’t thought of that!

  “What are you doing, Joss? You just got back to town. Don’t tell me you’re headed out again.”

  “No.”

  He gestured to the suitcases. “Then what’s this?”

  Understanding came into his eyes before I had a chance to utter a word. Color flushed his face, turning his pale skin into something like a sunburned leprechaun’s.

  “You’re leaving me.”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “You went to Kirkland and he told you to leave me? Is that it? Told you I’m a cheating bastard and you were better off without me, is that it?” His anger came out in a deep, dangerous tone. “And you’re taking his advice like you don’t have a mind of your own?”

  “This has nothing to do with Kirkland.”

  “Bullshit!” He rushed over, lifting one of the suitcases and flipping it over, scattering half its contents out on the floor. “Then what is this?”

  “It’s for your own good, Carrington.”

  “For my own good? Or is it because you’re fucking that FBI agent?”

  I closed my eyes, the bile rising in my throat.

  “Tell me, Joss. Is that what it is?”

  “No, of course not!”

  “Then why? Why now?”

  I stepped back, stumbled against the edge of the bed. “It’s complicated.”

  He grabbed my arm, forced me to open my eyes and look up at him. “You’re my wife. No matter how bad things have been, I can’t just let you walk away!”

  “Why not? You can barely look at me anymore.”

  “You’re my wife.”

  “That’s not good enough anymore, Carrington.” I yanked my arm away and bent low, picking up the clothes he’d knocked out of the suitcase. “A maniac is out to kill you and the kids, the FBI has you under surveillance, you have to testify in Mahoney’s court case, the kids are trying to be kids, but they have bodyguards following them around. And we can’t talk to each other without fighting.” I shook my head ss I threw the clothes back into the case. “What is there to fight for anymore?”

  “Everything! We have two girls—”

  “Two girls who are living in fear because of me, because of what’s going on around us. Don’t you see how hard it’s been for them?”

  “This is the life we chose.”

  “No. It’s the life I chose.”

  “We chose it when we decided to get married. Don’t you think I know that? That I knew that from the very beginning?”

  I glanced at him. “That’s another thing. Would we have gotten married if I hadn’t gotten pregnant? Would you have even come back to me?”

  The color drained from his face. “What kind of question is that?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You walked away from me, took McKelty, and ran. And you had every right to do that. When you came back, I told you I was pregnant before you had a chance to say whatever it was you’d come to say. Did that influence your choice? Would you have chosen me if I wasn’t pregnant?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t know. How could I know?”

  I nodded, my heart heavy. That was the last thing I’d wanted him to say.

  “I want the girls out of the state. You can send them to your mother if you want, but I think they’d be safer if we sent them to my family in Illinois.”

  “You mean your husband’s family?”

  “They might like it there.”

  “For how long? Until the divorce is final? That could take some time.”

  The word divorce cut through me. I bit back my tears, occupying myself by zipping up the suitcases. “I’m staying at the Collingsworth downtown. You can send the rest of my stuff to room 1205.”

  He didn’t answer, just watched me drag the heavy cases off the bed.

  “I’m sorry, Carrington. I’m doing everything I can to make this right.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re giving up.”

  I nodded. “I guess that’s what it looks like to you. But this is for the best, I swear it is.”

  “I never thought of you as a quitter, Joss. I counted on you to fight for me, fight for us. I can’t believe you would do this to us.”

  There was pain in his voice. I glanced at him and saw the tears in his eyes.

  “I’m tired of fighting. I just want everyone to be happy.”

  “And you think this will make me happy? Then you don’t know shit about me.”

  “You’re right,” I said softly. “I don’t know you anymore.”

  Chapter 25

  Boone

  Erin not-so-lightly smacked the side of my face, a finger over her lips when I finally opened my eyes, her other hand holding up her cellphone. On the screen was footage from one of the outside security cameras and I could vaguely make out movement in the bushes.

  “Who?”

  She shook her head. She climbed off the bed and began to dress, tugging on a t-shirt over her bare breasts as someone cut the power lines to the house. The lights in the living room went out and the clock died on the side table. I followed Erin, quickly dressing as my ears strained to hear where the intruder was coming from. It only took a moment before we heard a window slide up in the living room.

  Erin slipped a gun from the side table and gestured to the wide windows across from the bed. We climbed out, Erin first with me following closely behind. She grabbed my hand and led the way around the house, pausing at each blind corner to look for potential partners waiting for the intruder. But we didn’t see anything.

  Her car was parked in the driveway. She had a spare key hidden in a secure compartment at the side of the house and had us out of there before the intruder even realized we were gone.

  “What the hell was that?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. Someone angry at what you did to Elizabeth?”

  “Maybe.” She drove carefully, keeping her speed under the posted max to keep from drawing attention to us. “You think she wants those files back?”

  “Could be. Or she wanted your head on a spike.”

  She smiled. “She’s going to find it much harder than she imagined if that’s what she wanted.”

  I settled back against the seat and stared out the window. “There’s something you should know about Elizabeth.”

  “What’s that?”

  “She’s not the kind to get over a hurt easily. She won’t forget what you did if you humiliated her.”

  “I don’t think I humiliated her. I just pistol whipped her and left her unconscious on the floor.”

  I glanced at her. “You don’t consider that humiliation?”

  “She shot me.”

  “Yeah. And you broke into her hotel room.”

  She smiled again. “True.”

  I pointed. “Pull into that diner. We can watch the road from the front booth. Maybe we can identify whoever the intruder is.”

  She did as I asked, ordering a big breakfast the moment we sat down like this was a normal outing. Then she pulled the security footage up on her phone again, the lines around her mouth tightening as she watched the man move through the rooms of her house, disturbing the perfect order she was careful to keep.

  “He’s looking for something, but not the files.”

  “And not us. He doesn’t seem to care that we got out.” She frowned.

  “They know about your security system. He likely anticipated that it would warn us.”

  She looked up. “They know about it?”

  “Everything I know about is because they told me. And I knew about the system.”

  She shrugged. “Do they have access to the feeds?”

  I shook my head. “The encryption was above Elizabeth’s pay grade, apparently.”

  “It is pretty sophisticated. David
Grayson is a technical genius.”

  Her food came as we continued to watch the man ransack her house. I could see the amusement was leaving her eyes with each passing second, annoyance taking its place. And a little panic.

  “It’ll be okay.” I touched her hand. “We’ll fix it when he’s gone.”

  She nodded, but I could see that wasn’t quite good enough. I was beginning to think she might insist that the house be sold and she find a new place to live, that’s how panicked she was beginning to look. But then the man turned out her purse and a heavy gun fell free. He picked it up, checked the serial numbers on the butt, and left. He’d clearly found what he was looking for.

  “Where did you get that gun?”

  “It’s Elizabeth’s.”

  I hadn’t even realized there was a gun in her bag. “You took it from her hotel room?”

  She nodded. “Why do you suppose she wanted it back?”

  I had no clue. She seemed more relaxed now, tearing into her food as she studied my face. “What do you know about her?”

  “Not much. We’ve worked together a few times, that’s all.”

  “You were lovers.”

  She said it matter-of-factly, a slight blush the only thing that gave away the fact that the idea bothered her. I reached across the table and took her hand, running my fingers over her palm.

  “It didn’t mean anything.”

  She jerked away. “That’s a standard excuse cheating husbands use. Please don’t offer it to me.”

  “What do you want me to say, then?”

  “There’s nothing to say. You knew her before you met me. I have no right to be jealous.”

  “Does that mean I have no cause to be pleased that you’re jealous?”

  She paused, then a smile slowly slipped over her lips. “Maybe.”

  I squeezed her hand and sat back again, stealing a piece of bacon from her plate. “There’s one thing you should know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ve been lying to you about this whole thing.”

  She started to say something, but then stopped, her eyes moving slowly over my face. The way she looked at me, it was almost as if she could see right through me to my very soul.